To lie all the green day
in this summer meadow
to hear the grass roots murmur
in their long stretch up to light
to be an unthought
in the day's bright dreaming
grass blade, swallow, human –
all tunes for the wind to dance in
– Roselle Angwin
Walking the Old Ways : nature, the bardic & druidic arts, holism, Zen, the ecological imagination
from BARDO
The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way
Is it a consolation
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Roselle Angwin
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July
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- lughnasadh: John Barleycorn must die
- hayfields, horse-dung & blossom
- speaking of now
- architecture of a wasps' nest
- political extremism and acts of hatred
- pool, your life as a novel, wildlife, Bly on poetry
- being another syllable
- never mind cleansing the doors of perception - bre...
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- there are days...
- that tricky axis: intimacy & solitude
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- herepaths
- a book blog: Jason Kirkey; and A Printmakers' Poetica
- notes from the courtyard
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- the waters before
- ego, the wild, the west & a hornets' nest: Part 11
- ego, the wild, the west & a hornets' nest: Part 1
- the crucible of the garden/hortus conclusus
- heaven's breath
- not a poem about sex
- summer day writing courses
- July
- what is poetry for? & poetry as cultural therapy
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